Broken Soul
by GrimSage
Summary: Dawn's POV of dealing with Buffy's return from the dead. Set at beginning of Season 6.


"You . . . you're really here." 

I can't believe she's here. I thought I'd lost her forever, but . . . here she is, in my arms.

"You're alive and you're home . . . you're home."

I say it twice as I hold onto her, feeling as if she might vanish if I let go. I can feel the tears start to well up in my eyes.

'She feels so fragile,' I think worriedly, 'and she hasn't said a word.' 

I wrap my arms tightly around her, helping her up from the ground. I can feel myself crying, the silent tears streaking my face. Buffy remains silent, and I worry even more. Something must be wrong.

"Buffy?", I call her name, yet receive no answer. I pull away from her reluctantly, looking into her eyes. I am shocked by what I find.

Fear, confusion, uncertainty, pain. All these things I see etched in her eyes. A lost soul in need of comfort. She seems so small, like she's collapsing from within. I've never seen her this way, and it scares me a little.

"Buffy? We should go home. Okay?" She stares at me blankly, and after a moment I grab hold of her hand and start walking as I lead her home. Away from the wreckage of the tower, away from the place where I lost her. Away from where I almost lost her again.

The trip is quiet and uneventful, and before I know it, we're in front of our house. I turn to my sister, hoping to see some recognition of the structure. Unfortunately, her expression is empty and lost.

"Home! See?", I say nervously. I wish she would say something. "You're back home. We're gonna be okay now." I open the front door and she walks in, with me following her inside. 

"Home again, home again . . . ," I say in a sing-song voice before trailing off, realizing that she's barely listening to me, lost in the corridors of her mind.

"It's different.", Buffy finally says in a whisper as she enters the living room. It's not much, but at least she's talking. That's something, right? I try to explain what's changed in an effort to keep her talking.

"A little. Willow and Tara live here now, and we . . . we didn't do much . . . we moved some chairs, took out some of the little tables . . . " Oh god, I'm babbling, and I don't know what I should say. How do you welcome someone back from the dead? 

I watch as Buffy walks into the dining room, and I follow after her. She looks at the room, and I try to talk to her again, but she walks away, heading upstairs. Again I follow her, catching up with her as she enters her room. She stops just inside the room, saying nothing. I decide to try actions instead of words. I walk to her closet, pulling out some clean clothes. She stays silent as I help her change.

When we're finished, I lead her to the bathroom, turning on the water as we reach the sink. I grab a washcloth, using it to gently clean her face. I decide to try to get her to talk again.

"There you are. I knew you were under that dirt somewhere. Remember what Mom used to say? 'Either wash that neck or plant potatoes.' " I laugh feebly as I smile at her, but Buffy doesn't even react. "Yeah . . . I never thought it was funny either." I notice she's looking at her hands, and I realize just how badly they're hurt.

"Oh. Ow. We should take care of that." I open the medicine cabinet, grabbing some bandages.

"Okay." She says, but I think her response was automatic, because she doesn't seem to be aware of having said it. I start to clean the wounds on her hands, but she pulls away, leaving the bathroom and heading into Willow and Tara's room. Once again I'm right behind her.

"Mom's room." I remind her. "I... I know it's really different now." I can feel Buffy's tension and uncertainty, and it actually surprises me when she speaks.

"Willow and Tara. This is their room." She says it more as a statement than an observation. I try to get her to talk more. Maybe if I explained a few things?

"Yeah, well, it seemed like it just made sense. No one was using it, and it's the biggest. Besides, I wouldn't let them change your room. It . . . It made me feel like you were still here." I don't know if she's listening, but when she turns to leave the room I block her path. 

"Buffy? You wanna, like, stop? I... We can sit down and talk. I'm trying to be all this-happens-all-the-time about this, but I'm really kinda freaking out, and I don't know what to do." I look at her, waiting for some kind of response, but I don't even know if I have her attention. She looks so confused, and her silence is tearing me apart.

"What . . . What else is different?" Her question catches me by surprise, and I mentally stumble to find the answer.

"You mean with the house, or . . . Um, lets see . . . Giles. It's so weird. He left today. Because you were . . . gone. You were gone." I stop, and I can feel myself start to cry again. Buffy shifts a little, and I can see I'm making her uncomfortable. I take a deep breath, and contain myself. 

"I'll call him. He'll come right back. I promise." I'm hoping for a smile from her, but all I get is another question.

"What . . . What will you say to him?" She asks me with curiosity. Honestly, I don't know, but I know the words will come when it's time. For the moment however, I just say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I don't know . . . It'll be interesting. We could call him now if you want." Buffy doesn't respond to the idea, instead she just watches me, her eyes distant and empty. "Or not." After a moment I move away from the door, leading her back downstairs.

When we get to the living room, I sit on the couch, leaving room for her next to me. I wait, and after a moment she sits down. She wraps her arms across her chest, as if she was protecting herself from a chill. I gently reach out and take her hands into mine. Her hands are shaking, but my touch seems to calm them just a bit. I look into her eyes, and for a second, I see a flash of recognition. It gives me hope as I continue to talk to her.

"I... I'm glad you're back." I stop, realizing how foolish I sound. Buffy wasn't on vacation, she was gone, and I missed her more than words can describe. I'm searching for what to say next when the front door bursts open, and the whole gang enters. They immediately close in around us.

"Buffy!"

"Are you okay?"

"What do you remember?"

"Are you in pain?"

"What do you know about what happened?"

I can see Buffy cringing under the onslaught, and my reaction is purely instinct.

"Hey! Back off!" I startle everyone, including myself. "Let her breathe!" I stand up, placing myself between them and her. I turn my attention to Willow. "You did this. What did you do?"

"A-A spell. We did a spell." Of course I knew this already, but . . . hearing Willow say it makes it somehow more real. Still, there's one more thing that I need to know.

"Is she going to be okay?" The silence I receive is not reassuring.

"I'm okay." An answer, not from Willow, but from Buffy. I turn to look at my sister as she speaks again. "I'm going to be fine." As much as I want that to be true, I don't believe her. I can see the truth in her eyes. However, the gang sees her comment as a sign to start with the questions again. This time I know what to say.

"No! She shouldn't have to talk about it!" I turn, seeing the look of gratitude on Buffy's face. I calm myself before speaking again. "Guys. Back off. Really." For once, they actually listen to me.

"Dawn's right." Willow. Leader of the Scooby gang since Buffy's death. I'm actually relieved to hear her agreement as she continues. "Let's just be quiet. Let Buffy tell us what she needs." The group falls silent, turning their attention to Buffy. I can see it makes my sister uncomfortable. Buffy shifts in her seat before speaking.

"I think . . . I want to sleep." I know she just wants to get away from them, but they believe her, and after a few more welcome back comments the reunion is over. Xander and Anya head home, and Willow and Tara retire to their room. Soon it's just Buffy and I again, alone in the living room.

After a moment Buffy starts toward the stairs, but she pauses at the first step. I watch her with curiosity, worrying that she's going to shut me out. However, I'm surprised by what she says next.

"Dawn? Would you stay in my room tonight?" She speaks softly, without looking at me, and I can hear the fear in her voice. I answer by walking over to her, grasping her hand, and letting her lead me upstairs.

When we reach her room, I let her enter first, and as she sits on the bed I ask where she wants me to sleep. She gestures to the bed, and I nod in agreement. I want to be as close to her as possible, to watch over her like she used to watch over me. It's my turn to be the older sister. Strong enough for both of us.

As we climb into bed Buffy lays against me, resting her head on my chest. She can feel my heartbeat, and it seems to have a soothing effect on her. Soon she relaxes completely, and as I settle in I feel a tear hit my chest. She's crying, but I don't think they're tears of happiness. I don't know why, but I can practically feel her despair, and as she drifts off to sleep I whisper a promise to her.

"I will always be here for you." It's a promise I intend to keep, no matter what.

THE END


End file.
